Woman
by chickenshitt
Summary: "Believe it or not, I just wanted to get off on your voice." Hiei/Kurama smut. Rated for language and possible sexism.


Back to the YYH fandom after more than 10 years and the first thing I write is smut. Have you noticed how closer Hiei and Kurama have gotten after the fight with Mashotsukai? This is my take on it. (Damn, the anime is naughty, and we love it.) The inspiration for this came from listening too much YYH character image songs. It's been many years but I still feel like making out with Hiei's (Japanese) voice.

**Woman**

It was a night before they faced off with Team Uraotogi, and after Kurama's near-death beating from some members of Team Mashotsukai. Everyone had been ready to wreak havoc as the muscled idiot Bakken pummeled him while unconscious, though it was later understood that he could not have killed Kurama with his absolute lack of skill, or honor, for that matter. His friends would not have allowed it anyway.

Still covered in bandages but recovering well enough to walk about freely, Kurama led an impromptu brainstorming session for the semi-finals, something that the four other members of the team were not exactly eager to do. Rather, it was just not their style. Out of courtesy to his friend, Kuwabara tried to indulge him, but Yusuke's nagging would not let him. Genkai sat in the corner of the sofa, sipping her tea in silence; who knew if she was actually paying attention? Hiei sat next to Kurama, his head filled with thoughts other than the matter at hand.

Thoughts like Kurama's voice.

Hiei mentally trained his hearing to that voice, drowning out the words they formed. Drowned out everything else. He was having a revelation about it. In his mind, he was touching it: soft. He was caressing it: smooth. He was feeling it: thin, porous, and airy. He was weighing it in his hand: it was deep, but somewhere inside it, a lightness, a femininity that made his loins roil just thinking about it.

In his mind, he was fucking it.

_Kurama as a woman. Hn._ Now that was new. He had never thought about it until now. A glint came to his eyes. Kurama was a man, that much is obvious, but the next time they go to bed things would be a little different with this new...idea...in mind.

"Hiei? Hiei!"

Hiei started at the sound of his name. Kurama.

"Hey, are you all right?" Yusuke.

"What are you thinking about, shorty?" That dumb oaf, Kuwabara.

What was he thinking about? How much he wanted to hear that voice in bed. Right now. Not that he could say that to Kuwabara's face.

"We're just about to go for dinner. Join us?" It was an invitation, but the tone was what Kurama used when he was not really giving Hiei a choice. Kurama even extended his hand, but Hiei could only stare at it, as he dumbly focused his efforts on taming the beast between his legs.

"I'll...pass." Then, just when he was sure Yusuke and the others were out of earshot, Hiei said distractedly, "I want to lie down."

"Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine. Go with them already." Hiei trodded to the suite he shared with Kurama.

He felt a warm shadow behind him just as he was opening the door to the room. "We can get dinner later," Kurama said, and put his hand on Hiei's shoulder as he lightly pushed him inside.

Hiei sat on his bed. Closing the door, Kurama stood at Hiei's side, and put a hand on his shoulder again. "What is it? It's not like you to space out," Kurama asked, always the busybody.

At least whenever Hiei's concerned.

"Kurama," Hiei called, taking his hand and pulling it down so he would sit beside him. He leaned forward and down on him until Kurama hit the pillows and he could straddle him on his waist.

Kurama looked back at him calmly, but Hiei could see how his friend's green eyes had clouded over with desire. It was as if he knew what was going to happen the moment he closed the door. Hiei surveyed him: the wounds on his face have healed, the ever vain youko incarnate he was, but thick bandages ran under those long-sleeved Chinese tunic and pants. This was not how he was supposed to recuperate, but Hiei could not help himself.

"I want to fuck you," he whispered in Kurama's ear, "and hear you scream." The pliant body beneath him shuddered in anticipation.

"I don't know about screaming but," Kurama chuckled, putting his heavily bandaged left arm on top of Hiei, as though locking him in place, "you'll hear me just the same. You know you want to. So do it." He would have curled his fingers around Hiei's waist or grabbed his ass, too, if he could actually move them.

They both loved these games: the half-meant threats, the dirty talk, the awesome sex. Demons were hedonists by nature, and this was what gave Hiei and Kurama an edge in the act, compared to sentimental humans. They could have great sex as friends and enjoy it; but at the same time, it was their bond's trial by fire, and the results were satisfying so far.

Hiei sat up, leered down at him, and started grinding their hips together. "I'll be gentle," he said. He could feel the redhead's legs tightening; his toes were probably curling up. Save for the flush on Kurama's cheeks, his face betrayed nothing.

"You'll be," Kurama told him. And there it was, Hiei thought, that voice: barely above a whisper, but it ran heavy and deep, belying some murky secret in its depths. It set him off like waves rolling into a beach and taking as much sand as they could back to the sea. The sound of Kurama's trust.

Kurama reached for Hiei's hand with his right, and intertwined their fingers. The hand was weakened but it was by no means weak, and Hiei had no shame using it as leverage to pick up his pace. Kurama's hips bucked wildly when Hiei alternated between grinding and bouncing. He put his arm across his eyes, embarrassed that Hiei might find his arousal overeager. At first he bit his lip to muffle his cries, but later dropped all restraint in lieu of the overwhelming pleasure taking over him. Hiei found Kurama's mouth and dropped his tongue inside like an anchor. Kurama's cries went out of his nose instead as Hiei seemed to greedily drink from his mouth.

_Mine. All mine._

Hiei had to pull back to let Kurama breathe. The poor guy looked ravished. He could practically smell his afternoon coffee somewhere in the muck that now smeared Kurama's face. But they were not quite done yet.

He stopped grinding; the suddent halt making Kurama gasp, his eyes flying open. The dark clouds in them had gotten heavier, Hiei noticed. He smirked.

"Hiei, please."

Hiei had always known that Kurama's voice pitched, whenever he was excited, whether in bed or battle, revealing a note that was almost feminine. That note turned Hiei on more than anything else. Now that he hit it, he wanted to do so, over and over. It was like the first time when he found Kurama's pleasure spot, deep, deep within him. Hiei took pride in that he was the only one to have reached it. He wanted more of Kurama's secrets, if not all of them, and make them his.

_More, more._

Hiei placed his free hand between their erections. He made a show of feeling around for his entrance, which he knew Kurama could see in full view. Then he cupped his friend's erection over the tightened pants, hot and writhing in unfinished business. Holding it as though positioning it before his entrance, Hiei leaned forward again and slid up and down on it, making what would have been Kurama's tip knock against his covered hole, and the entire length of it running between Hiei's ass cheeks. It drove Kurama mad.

"Fucking... tease! Ah!" Kurama hissed, vehemently, tugging at their interlaced hands, but there was that gasp again at the end of the sentence. It was breathless and tapered off like a woman's. Hiei closed his eyes against the sound as sheer pleasure jolted through him and made his eyes roll behind his lids. He kept his facial expressions at a minimum to show the redhead who was in control, but Hiei could not help think he was the one getting fucked. Mind-fucked.

"Hiei, Hiei... I need...!"

Kurama's pleading called Hiei back to reality. "What?" he asked, challengingly, but his pathetic resolve cracked open his voice. To quickly cover it up, he sped up his motions, stirring them both, intent to drive Kurama to the edge before he himself got there.

Kurama grunted rhythmically to match Hiei's movements, keeping his eyes closed, gnashing his teeth, throwing his head against the pillows again and again. Rising above his lust-addled consciousness, Hiei struggled to watch him.

Beautiful. Kurama was beautiful. There simply was no other word for it.

Feeling something well up in him, Hiei tightened his hold on Kurama's hand, if it were possible at all, and Kurama did the same, opening one eye to look at him. He smiled before his breathing hitched erratically; his face scrunching up against the sensations once more. He felt Hiei's mouth descend on his, but they did not kiss, merely shared teeth, tongue, heavy breathing, and helpless cries.

Hiei felt Kurama clutch at him for dear life, then a strangled shriek from the redhead passed between their mouths as they came together, as if on cue. The sound gave Hiei a mental image of a woman churning out a monster. It reverberated in the caverns of Hiei's mouth, then swam to the bottom of his gut. The monster had been passed on him.

Drained, Hiei slumped on top of his lover, still holding hands. Neither spoke as they savored the maddening heat of after-orgasm, the cum that had been spilled inside their pants, and the sweat that drenched their shirts.

Hiei exhaled slowly, his other hand blindly reaching up to brush soaked red bangs away from Kurama's forehead. "Disgusting," he said, referring to their untidy state.

"It's hot," Kurama said, moistening his lips as he tried to calm his breathing. Hiei could not see him but he liked how his voice curved when he spoke. "_You_ were hot," he continued. "What got into you?" He rested his disabled arm on Hiei's back.

"Believe it or not, I just wanted to get off on your voice."

Kurama laughed, and Hiei closed his eyes at the sound. Tired as it was, there was that sweet spot in his voice again that was extremely sexy, now that Hiei had made a mental note of it. _The "just-got-fucked" sweet spot_.

"But I'm disappointed we didn't take it all the way through. We didn't even take off our clothes."

"Not to mention, dirty."

"I don't mind dirty," Kurama said, and Hiei lightly tugged on his hair at the mischievous tone his voice took. "I really wanted you inside me," he teased, though meaning it more than he let on.

"Baka, you know what they say about having sex the night before a fight."

Kurama laughed again, mirth coloring his voice. "My, when did you ever care about human sayings? When did that even stop you?"

"I was trying to be concerned about you, in case it was lost on you. Look at you, you're all messed up. You can't even use an arm."

"You know how well I can use other parts of my-ouch." Hiei tugged on his hair again.

"Don't tempt me, Kurama. Make it through the semis alive and maybe I'll fuck you so hard Yusuke and the idiot will need to carry you to breakfast. Or carry your breakfast to you."

Another laugh. Hiei's dirty talking and the promise of hard sex as reward turned him on, but Kurama knew his friend was right: he was not in the condition. "I'll hold you on to that," he said instead, already looking forward to it.

"Provided you live," Hiei reminded again, if a bit too hastily, regretting it the moment he did.

Kurama had nothing to say to that. Their lives were a grim reality, and that they may be over soon was an even grimmer possibility.

"Don't die, Kurama." It was no longer a suggestion, but a direct order; a desperate plea from someone who never plead.

Kurama brought hs friend closer. "I won't if you don't," he whispered. It was the only thing he could promise for now.


End file.
